


Magic cleaner is more than just an advertisement.

by Hello_Im_not_a_possum



Series: Tumblr Requests [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Crack-up Comics, Everybody BUT him believes the prophesies he tells, Gen, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Norman is a Necromancer, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sammy is a Seer, Think 'Cassandra But in Reverse', This spiraled out of control, Transformation, Tumblr Prompt, Wally is a Wizard, but he doesn't know he's a seer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Im_not_a_possum/pseuds/Hello_Im_not_a_possum
Summary: Anon Asked: Prompt: Wally Franks, but he's a wizard.Me: One wizard Wally coming right up!
Series: Tumblr Requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061771
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36





	1. Of course he's magic, how else would the studio stay clean?

It was a miracle how the Janitor kept the studio clean.

Even when it was just a tiny shack of a building, it was a busy tiny shack of a building that had ink and papers constantly spilling everywhere; crumpled up balls of paper that would miss the trashcans, broken bottles of ink, and god knows what else because people are messy. But it was manageable and easily cleaned. After all, if Wally 'slacks off until the last possible second every single day in that dumb hat of his' Franks managed to keep the place spotless, it couldn't be that hard.

Anyone in the studio could recognize Wally without even meeting the man because of that ridiculous hat, but nobody could tell why he wore such a thing as he always changed the story behind it.

"Laugh now, but dese are all the rage ouva in dose hoity-toity upscale cities. I'm gonna mistaken for one of those shmucks and get famous!"

"Oh, dis old thing? Okay, let me set the stage fah ya: Way, way, back in good ol' 1692, my great-great-insert a couple dozen or so more 'greats' in dere grandpa really cheesed off a witch in da woods... *one over the top ridiculous story later* ...and now my entire bloodline is cursed to weah stupid hats."

"I Might've lost da first bet, but ya should've seen da getup the outha guy's stuck with!"

"Da best way ta keep a clown from sneakin' up an killin' ya is ta trick 'em into thinkin' you're one of them."

"All my outha hats got covered in ink."

"Didn't ya see dat Mickey Mouse short in da 'Fantasia' thang Disney put out? Obviously I wear dis stupid hat 'cause gives me magical powers."

"Isn't 'Steamboat Willie' the only animation that Disney made?"

"Aw shoot- I mean, I must've been thinkin' about something else then."

Often after answering he'd laugh and nonchalantly change the subject. Nobody really thought anything of it, the Janitor was the biggest chatterbox in the studio and always had a bunch of different subjects on his mind.

The day after Henry left, the studio expanded.

More rooms to fill with art, more people to fill the void of the lost creator, more ink to fuel it all. In fact, it didn’t stop there, why should it? Joey more musicians and started hiring voice actors to make future cartoons even better than the old ones, to prove to himself that he didn't need Henry to make their creation successful. Yet in spite of this rapid growth, the cleaning staff still only had one member; a single janitor and his stupid, colorful, pointy hat.

Joey didn’t even bother trying to hire anyone else for the studio’s cleaning staff. Even when animators and musicians got concerned for Wally about being the only janitor at such a big studio, Joey always said that he could never find anyone as ‘talented’ as Wally for the job. And to the Director’s credit, he was correct. No matter how large the studio grew, no matter how often the janitor slacked off, and no matter how bad the messes got, the studio would always be completely and perfectly spotless when the workers arrived in the morning. While Wally did complain to high heaven about having to clean up after everybody and often repeated what was essentially now his catchphrase, he never seemed to be exhausted from the job itself. If anything, he seemed to be overall more well rested than the other staff.

However, almost no one paid mind to this, after all, they work to do and had deadlines to meet, no time to spend wondering about the Janitor's uncanny ability to stay on top of his workload, they just were used to it and accepted it as one of the studio workers’ natural mysteries. Like how the building felt like it was changing itself sometimes, or how the projectionist seemed to be anywhere and or everywhere, or how the music director seemed to be a seer who made bitter, sarcastic, and or dry humored remarks that would often turn into accurate predictions of the future, or how Joey always seemed to know where everyone in the studio was. (Okay, that last one might’ve just been that he had the building wiretapped and there was nothing supernatural about that.)

Thankfully for Wally Franks, there was only one person who really took the time to sit down and question how he managed to get all several stories of the now almost constantly inked studio completely spotless was the man who had piled on a couple extra chores with his and his machine's arrival.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

“So I’m cleaning da studio late at night an' I almost forgot dat Mistah Conner started doing late night shifts an' he almost caught me in full swing, I had brooms and mops out flyin' everywhere an' he almost saw everythang! Luckily, his footsteps are pretty heavy so it was easy ta know when he was coming but man dat was close! And I'm startin' ta think he's caught on to da fact dat there's something fishy goin' on down 'ere an' I bet I was really something suspicious back 'dere. 'Dis is the first time since dat incident he let me outta his sight while on da clock. What do ya think Sam? Last straw? Should I really get outta here before it gets worse? How'd my futuah look eitheah way?"

The music director sighed in annoyance before answering the janitor.

"For the last goddamned time, I CAN'T really see the future, Franks! That's just a dumb running joke between the studio."

"But you definitely can! And wit' accuracy too! remembah when ya told me ta not eat dat sandwich in the fridge or else I'd get punched even though it was MY Sandwich and afta I shrugged ya off, Jerry went an' clocked me in da jaw? You saw the freakin' futuah! You saw that I'd get punched and ya tried ta warn me!"

"Or, I saw the fact you have a long history of eating other people's food, had my back turned to you at the moment, and thought you were eating Jerry's sandwich. Jerry probably also thought you were eating his sandwich because you two brought in the exact same lunch!"

The musician stood up from his seat to refill his coffee mug, but before he could, the janitor dropped down on his knees in front of him and gave him his best 'puppy dog eyes'.

"C'mon Sammy! Please tell me what I should do! I don't wanna end up stuck in jail or dead from this! I have a girlfriend and a kid!"

The unwilling prophet pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of something to tell the "wizard" to get him off his back.

"My best advice to you is to tell Conner about your secret in a secluded area, preferably a night shift you both work. If he doesn't believe you, demonstrate a simple yet flashy spell. And then wait for his reaction. If you get the feeling he's going to tell the world, tell him that if he tells anyone else, you will curse him and his entire bloodline."

"Wait, really? I mean, I don't plan on ignorin' ya but is dat really the best caurse of action?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well fer starters, cursing an entirah bloodline ain't somethin' you should take lightly! Even if it's something small, just, an' kinda silly like; 'Every time ya yell at someone for somethin' they didn't do, yer voice turns all high pitched and squeaky'. Ya could end up ruinin' someone's life! What if Tom's great-great grandson or whateva decided ta become a lawyeah and while defendin' his client, his voice got all squeaky. He'd be da laughin' stock of da legal system an' I'd be ta blame!"

"Okay, fine. Then just curse Conner specifically if he tries to ruin your life."

"But I don't even use magic on livin' things! What if I screw up an' accidentally turn him inta some kinda squeaky toy? Besides, is dere any otha way than just, revealing my secret dat I kept for my entirah life ta some guy who came in here an' started bossin' me around?"

Sammy rolled his eyes in annoyance. An action that registered to Wally as 'Why do these people keep asking me for help with the future if they keep fighting against me over the advice I give?' While Sammy knew his action meant 'Why am I constantly being bothered by my coworkers over their dumb running jokes pretending that magic is real?'

"Well, you told me, didn't you?"

"I mean, yeah, but dat's different! We're both, _you know_ , and he's... well, not! I know you won't out me, but he might, even unda da threat of cursing!"

The two stood in silence for a bit before Sammy tried to leave again and Wally blocked his way.

"Just in case, do ya have any otha predictions?"

"I predict that if you stand between me and the coffee machine for any longer, you will suffer a terrible fate by my hands."

"Okay, okay! jeeze..."

And as the musician left for the break room, Wally silently dreaded the next time he and Tom would work a night shift together. Hopefully the studio's constantly irritated oracle was right about this being the best course of action.


	2. Problems with predictions

To Wally's luck, Tom had him back on a night shift again the next night and the wizard was getting more and more nervous about it. It didn't help that apparently, Conner had a big project planned and needed Wally's help for it. As far as he knew, Conner already knew but revealing his secret could be the final nail in the coffin. Speaking of coffins, maybe there was someone else he could talk to about this...

"Norman, I need a second opinion."

"Let me guess," The old projectionist clicked off the projector and turned to face the janitor "yer first one was Sammy?"

"Yeah, and I dunno if I'm comf'table wit going through wit Sammy's advice _._ But at da same time, I don't wanna accidentally doom myself ta whateva happens if I don't make the 'good futuah' happen. I mean, dere's this little voice in my head tellin' me; 'what if he's tryin' ta get ya ta do it so dat ya get locked up an' or dissectahed!' it might be da best outcome _foah him_ while he leaves me high an' dry! I know he'd neavh do it, he's a grouch, not a killer. but ya know how little voices are-"

Not entirely knowing the context of the situation due to Wally's waffling, Norman stopped the Janitor's motor mouth from running to give him the advice he thought he needed.

"Wally, I can't see the future like he can, so I don know what to tell yous other than to make sure _not_ to panic about the prediction. Unless yer tryin' to get lotto numbers outta Sammy or something specific like that, the best way to handle a prophecy is to keep calm an' just focus on what ya'd do if ya didn't hear it in the first place; not go out of your way to avoid fate mind you, but don't go thinkin' about it too hard."

"Oh o-okay, so just let whateva happens, happen?"

"Yep." Norman nodded. "Whatever happens, happens."

"Thanks Norman, see ya tamarrah I guess."

* * *

"Don't panic..." He muttered to himself as he swept up dust the 'normal' way while the mechanic worked on something in his office. "Sammy's predictions are nevah wrong, an' Norman wouldn't dream of hurtin' a fly, let alone condemn a man ta... _that_! You're gonna be okay."

Wally's heart pounded in his ears as he thought about how he'd break the news to Thomas Conner. God, he really, really, didn't want to do this... The best case scenario he could see was him getting fired for 'not doing the job properly'! He hated this job, but he needed it to pay his bills and keep his small family afloat! He couldn't just find a different job whenever he felt like it, even with magic!

"Wait a dang minute! Norman's advice was 'just do what ya'd do if ya didn't hear it!' if I didn't hear the prediction, I wouldn't tell Mistah Conner in da first place!"

"Tell me what?"

Wally shrieked and dropped his broom as he jumped back.

"N-nothing!"

The janitor smiled and sweated nervously as the mechanic didn't look convinced. But thankfully, he didn't bring it up again for the rest of the night. Or rather, he didn't have the energy to chase after Wally who decided that now was the perfect time to empty every single trash can in the building.

Thomas didn't have the time to pester Wally about it after hours either as as soon as the janitor's shift was over, the man clocked out and practically flew out of the building as if his overalls were on fire. Wally ran back to his apartment and didn't once look back until he was slamming his front door shut and frantically locking it behind him with so much adrenaline rushing through him that you would've thought that the man was being chased by a serial killer.

He let out the biggest sigh of relief that he ever had as soon as he hung his key ring up on the hook next to the door, he had successfully kept his secret safe another day.

"Okay, an now I just have ta avoid Conner for da rest of his contract and I'm in da clear!" It took Wally only a few seconds to realize just how stupid that idea was. "Oh what am I thinkin'?! His contract lasts for what? ten years? I'd soonah get back inta Harvard den see 'im leave for good!"

The Janitor spent the few hours he had at home not sleeping like he should've been, but tossing and turning as his mind raced through the possible terrible futures that would happen as his price for him intentionally going against Sammy's advice which was 'tell him', and Norman's advice, which was 'don't panic'.

* * *

"I swear there's something _weird_ about that janitor..." Thomas said to the music director as he refilled his thermos with coffee. "That stupid hat of his aside, he acts like a nutcase too. And I swear that stuff _happens_ around him."

"Wally? He's just always like that, I think he does it out of sheer boredom."

"He... makes brooms and mops levitate... out of boredom..."

"I wouldn't call it 'levitating' but yes. You should've seen the time he somehow glued every single instrument, chair, music stand, _and himself_ to the band room's ceiling while he was and I quote: 'celebrating opposite day'."

The mechanic raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"And you didn't think any of it was strange?"

"What's so strange about it? It was just a dumb prank done by someone with way too much time on his hands."

Thomas bit back his tongue at the musician's nonchalant dismissal of the janitor's weirdness. Of course he'd defend him, of course he'd normalize what was clearly abnormal, he was also weird but in a very different way. Conner could feel it. But feelings alone weren't evidence. The mechanic got closer to the musician to study his reactions.

"He's been avoiding me ever since the last time we shared a night shift."

"Every time you see him, you give him another job." Sammy paused to scarf down his third muffin. "He hates extra work, of course he'd learn to avoid you eventually."

"He keeps appearing in strange places."

"His job is to clean the entire building," the man rolled his eyes "this includes 'strange places'."

"He doesn't even react to the abnormal nature of the ink."

"I think you both are inhaling too many ink fumes if you also think it's alive." He deadpanned. "Wet ink drips, but it doesn't just freely wander around." 

"I didn't say I thought it was alive."

"I heard Wally complaining about it but I thought he was just making excuses."

The tension between the two men was so thick it could be felt in the air, their eyes refusing to look away from each other until a frazzled looking intern burst into the break room, and had gotten caught in the two men's death glare of maximum intimidation.

"M-Mr. Conner! Joey a-asked me to to get you! He says he needs you for something important!"

The intern sheepishly sputtered before running out as quickly as possible.

"Well, good luck dealing with the king nutcase of crazy town." Sammy coolly remarked as he focused his attention back on the book he should've spent his break reading. "Whatever he's planning is going to end badly for you."

"And how are you so sure about that?"

"It's _Joey_ we're talking about." the musician scoffed. "How can you doubt me on this?"

Thomas couldn't argue with Sammy on that, with how the man was running his studio now and how he treated his former business partner, he was only surprised the studio's partnership with GENT didn't already sour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how you start off writing something then it turns into something you didn't expect but roll with anyway because you're kinda vibing with it? Yeah, that's what happened here.


	3. Thomas has a reely bad time

Thomas didn't believe in magic though out most of his life.

Of course he didn't, he was a smart kid growing up and knew better than to believe that success and riches would come from whining about your problems while a star falls out of the sky. In his mind, the only things that would bring anybody anything was hard work, sheer luck, and as he learned later in life under certain circumstances; the willingness to kill anyone who could drag you down. ...Luckily for him he didn't need to rely on that last one too often.

But as a rational and educated man, he was also not stupid enough to blindly cling on to the denial of something strange happening when evidence of it's existence started showing up in Joey Drew Studios.

It started out as small, trivial things that he could easily dismiss.

The occasional odd coincidence, the fact that Wally was only good at his jobs when he wasn't being watched (something he formerly dismissed as performance anxiety before seeing the flying brooms), the projectionist's morbid jokes and oddly suspicious knowledge of the human anatomy (he was thankfully wrong about his previous theory about the man being a serial killer, he was simply a former mortician with a dark sense of humor.), the fact that everybody seemed to go to music director for life advice whenever they wanted and or needed it (in spite of the fact that that man was as one of the coldest, rudest, and least sociable bastards he's ever met.), and the mechanic's job itself. Making life-size figures of the cartoon characters for the them-themed amusement park was normal, the fact that his client wanted these models to come to life was slightly less so but Mr. Drew seemed like he wasn't a very logical man.

Things escalated the first time he saw the studio literally cleaning itself, a dancing, human, skeleton made of genuine, real bones, and witnessed first hand that the music director had some suspiciously good foresight and reflexes.

Something strange was going on, he knew it, and now Wally knew that he knew it if his reactions were anything to go by. But no matter how often the janitor would flee, he couldn't escape the fact that the mechanic _will_ get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Thomas felt uneasy about being called down to the machine's room. Maybe it was the fact that the last time he was down here, _that_ thing came out. Maybe it was the fact that the intern who told him that Joey needed him had chased him down and practically begged him not to go to Joey, citing 'Sammy's psychic powers' as the reason why. The mechanic just brushed the sputtering coward off, stating that the notion of Sammy being able to see the future was just a stupid excuse. But at the same time, he felt a bad feeling settling down in his gut, keeping him on edge.

However, a chance to tell Joey about the weirdness going on was not one to be ignored. Maybe he'd finally figure out what's going on.

"Mr. Drew, I think there's something going on with your janitor."

"Oh no!" his client feigned worry. "Tell me Tommy, what happened to him?!"

"For the last time, stop calling me 'Tommy'! And nothing happened to him, it's just that I think he's hiding something..."

"Then it's nothing to worry about. Don't we all hide things, Tom?"

"Well, yes but-"

"Speaking of hiding things, I know you and Allison have been buddy-buddy with each other..." Joey playfully winked and nudged Thomas's ribs with his elbow "and honestly, that's great! _Very unprofessional in other circumstances..._ but in this one, it's just fantastic! You see, she's looked over some of the designs and inner workings of that machine and found out that the issue with it actually _wasn't_ the machine itself, but the ink! She's already worked on the new batch and put it in there, you just have to fix this little issue that just popped up and we'll be making living attractions in no time!"

"What's the issue?"

"There's this weird noise coming from inside it, I don't think it's smart to run it with that going on."

"Can you describe the noise itself?"

"It's this grinding noise... kinda like a 'Ka-CKHUNK Ka-CHUNK' before making something that sounds like a growl? I've looked inside it myself, but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. So I knew I could only count on your expertise to figure out what the problem was."

It wasn't the first time he had to go into a precarious situation to fix something, the constantly breaking elevator always put him in harm's reach and would've taken his life many times over if he wasn't careful. It wasn't the first time the Ink Machine started acting up, new technology never runs perfectly on its first try, especially with the things that they were trying to get it to do. And it wasn't the first time he and Joey had argued in circles about his legitimate safety concerns until he finally caved in and did the thing Joey wanted him to.

"Alright Mr. Drew, now where did you hear the noise coming from?"

_***SLAM!*** _

"HEY!"

The mechanic pounded on the slammed shut hatch but to no avail, it was as if he had been locked in.

"I'm sorry Tommy but you said it yourself: these things need souls! And I can't exactly let you take company secrets with you out to the public, you'll ruin my image with what you know!"

As Joey said that, Thomas pounded on the hatch even harder as the machine started to hum to life, the bizarre sound Joey mentioned wasn't there, implying he had made it up.

"JOEY YOU SON OF A BITCH! GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

The inside of the machine began to fill up with ink, Thomas's eyes widened at the sight of how quickly the stuff had covered the floor completely, but was more concerned by the fact that the stuff was already creeping up his boots and had reached his knees.

*** _BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*_**

"OPEN THIS DAMN HATCH, DREW!"

The pungent stench of ink fumes filled his lungs, and while he could be imagining the stuff creeping up his uniform, he knew for a fact that if he stayed in here any longer, he'd be dead. The cold ink was already up to his chest and his submerged body felt completely numb.

_***BANG**BANG**BANG**BANG**BANG*** _

"SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! LET ME OUT!"

_***BANG**BANG**BANG**BANG**BA-** _

Thomas could swear that he felt his arms being grabbed and pulled underneath the ink, and he felt the cold chill of the ink start to bite his neck.

" _OH SHIT!_ HELP ME! ANYONE! I DON'T WANT TO DI-"

And with that, his head went completely under the ink.

* * *

The former mechanic felt like he was being chewed up and spat back out repeatedly by a demon, he felt like he was stuck inside a roller coaster that had it's important safety measures removed, and he felt like he was the ball in the world's craziest pinball machine. Every time he opened his mouth to scream a flood of ink poured into his mouth, settling in his stomach and lungs and while he hated the feeling of it, when it got to the point where he had tried to scream again but couldn't even open his mouth he felt even more terrified. Then as abruptly as the chaotic sensation started, it stopped.

He could freely move his arms and legs, it didn't help him much while he was stuck in the ink, but it was better than being completely immobile. It was slightly better to swim around in the seemingly endless sea of ink than it was to stay frozen in one place at the mercy of the machine, but only slightly. He still hated the coldness of the ink, and how it made the inside of his mouth feel completely numb. But at least he couldn't taste the bitter sensation of the ink anymore.

After what felt like ages, the ink finally drained out of the machine.

The former mechanic just coughed and laid on the ground for a while, not wanting to move an inch with the pounding headache he got from the trip. His body needed to rest, but his mind argued that he should drag himself to the infirmary to see if they could help him (and because the beds there were so much more comfortable than the floor).

Thomas Conner's arms and legs felt like rubber hoses filled with sand as he stumbled around the inside of his blasted invention with the grace and precision of a newborn fawn. His head felt way too heavy for the rest of his body, he didn't know how he had managed to survive the ink but he knew for a fact that the fumes must've gotten to his head if the looks of his surroundings were anything to go by.

They were bigger than how he knew they were, and surprisingly well-lit considering he was thrown into the dark and didn't have a flashlight in his hands. His now much more baggy uniform hung loosely around his body-

Wait, what?

He looked at his hands, he had gone in wearing gloves but he wasn't wearing those gloves anymore, his were work gloves, the ones that were on his hands were white silk gloves, not unlike something a magician... or a cartoon character would wear. More importantly, they only had four fingers on each hand. He looked at the rest of himself and as he feared, he was definitely much smaller.

Maybe even no bigger than a child, he sure as hell felt like one that was dressed in grown-up's clothes.

" _This can't be real..._ "

The sound of 'his' own voice startled him for a second as it didn't sound at all like his voice! It wasn't deep or gruff, it sounded how he'd imagine a machine would sound if one could speak (and if the said machine was a bit of an uptight snob).

"What on earth is going on?!"

Still not his voice, and now that he spoke again, he could swear that 'his voice' wasn't coming out of his mouth, it sounded like it was coming from somewhere slightly lower, he wasn't sure if he opened his mouth once since the ink drained, how was he talking?

_***Creeeaaaaaak*** _

A sliver of light poured down from the freshly opened hatch in the machine and Joey poked his head in there.

The man looked at him and shielded his eyes from a beam of light that Thomas was projecting somehow, but the former mechanic could tell that his former client smiled at him like a kid on Christmas day with a fancy new toy that he always wanted.

Dear god he had never wanted to punch a man more in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gets better for our boy Tom when he learns how to fire lasers out of his head.


	4. In hindsight, helping the guy who doesn't value people turn them into cartoons won't mean that you and your boyfriend are safe from betrayal

Allison twiddled her fingers anxiously while Susie glared daggers into her from her side of the table. The witch internally cursed the music director, cursed him both for throwing what she hoped was an unintentional wrench into her and Joey's plan of getting Susie to be the first test subject today, and for putting her in this incredibly uncomfortable situation by not even bothering to show up so that the scorned former voice of Alice Angel could direct her ire at him instead of her.

 _'Couldn't come to the cafe on time because of a bad car accident'_ her ass, she doubted the man even owned a car in the first place considering that he often called the large machines 'death traps on wheels'. Besides, even if he did own one, everybody and their mother knew that that Sammy Lawrence never got into accidents of any kind. Regardless if you believed the rumor he could see the future or not, the man just had a nose for finding trouble and the common sense to deal with it how he saw fit.

The more she thought on it, the more it seemed a little bit too suspicious that the man 'happened' to schedule her and Susie's meeting right on the day and right on the hour that the ink machine's first human soul run was planned. The man couldn't have listened in on them unless he lived in her and Joey's house walls without either of them realizing it, which was highly unlikely. They only discussed the matters of the ink and the machine in private, but somehow the musician had managed to evade and or prepare for every single pipe burst that was meant to either burst the man's thick skull open or to drown him in ink like a pitiful rat.

He was somehow always one step ahead of the fate... Yet he didn't seem the slightest bit suspicious of her, Thomas, or Joey; He was always trusting of her cooking when she brought and offered it, he simply dismissed Thomas's constantly breaking pipework as 'incompetence' instead of looking into it any further, and he was not actively looking for another job in spite of the seven seas' worth of red flags Joey was wildly waving around. So he obviously wasn't reading any of their minds (thank goodness), but wasn't completely clueless either... Then it hit her, and when it hit her, it wouldn't stop hitting her over the head with how obvious it was in hindsight: It wasn't a rumor, Sammy really could see the future.

Allison knew that while oracles were rare to the point were they were almost nothing but myth, it wasn't impossible for one to act as some witches and wizards do and simply hide their magical nature under 'coincidences', snide remarks, and downplaying the supernatural aspects of their characters. But why would an oracle work at an animation studio of all places? How much did his powers tell him? Does Joey know about this? If he's with them, then why did he schedule this stupid meeting that delays the first proper run? If he's against them, then why didn't he confront any of them?

Susie let out a loud fake cough to grab her fellow voice actress's attention without making a scene.

"Huh?!" Allison snapped back to the situation at hand, nervously smiling at her coworker. "What?"

"...Well?" Susie sneered with a level of coldness that most of the studio wasn't aware she was capable of while tapping her fingers against the script between them. "Are we going to address the elephant in the room, or are we just going to 'pretend' that everything is fine so we can get this over with?"

Allison feigned nervousness as she cleared her throat.

"Susie, I know how you found out wasn't _ideal_ but I'm not the bad guy here. I honestly had no idea that he wanted me to voice Alice instead, I thought I was just one of the background voices and I can understand why you were upset at first. But I don't see why you can hold such a grudge about it for so long, it's kinda unprofessional if you ask me..."

Susie huffed and rolled her eyes. It was one thing to steal the role that she loved doing so much and had done for years, it was another to try to play it off like the other woman had simply spilled ink over her dress and she was overreacting, but she knew that arguing with the true demoness would be like arguing with a brick wall and she just wanted this meeting to be over and done with as soon as possible so that she could go on break to chat with Wally.

" _Second option it is then..._ So what we know here is that Joey wants me to voice Miss Twisted, and Sammy wanted to discuss future character dynamics with us so that he could work on their themes. Since he isn't here, do you want to discuss possible dynamics between Alice Angel and Miss Twisted?"

"Aren't they enemies?" Allison chimed, also wanting to end this meeting as soon as possible so that she could meet up with Joey and discuss what to do about getting Susie to the Ink Machine before she quit out of frustration. "Seems like it's a pretty open and shut case; they hate each other and are catty about it."

The demoness's future voice actress stared at her coworker with a deadpan expression for a few seconds before pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration and picking up her script.

"Okay then, they're enemies." She stood up from her seat and started to briskly walk out of the cafe. "Meeting adjourned, I'll see you when I collect my last paycheck."

"Susie, wait!"

Too late, she was already out of the building before Allison could stop her, the actress quickly losing her coworker in the crowds of the very busy New York streets.

* * *

Susie Campbell had mixed feelings about the studio ever since she lost her beloved role to that _Allison_ _Pendle..._ It felt like the world was ripped out from under her feet, it felt like her heart and soul were shattered. She felt even worse than when she found out her former boyfriend was cheating on her with her own sister of all people!

When she first found out about the news, she wanted to quit right then and there, she wanted to scream, to cry, she wanted to strangle Joey and Sammy until they turned blue... but she didn't. Okay, maybe she cried a little... or a lot, but could you blame her? She loved that role! She looked for other jobs, even managed to get an interview or two, while she hadn't landed one yet, both interviewers seemed very impressed with her resume so her future looked bright.

In the fallen angel's eyes, Joey Drew Studios in its whole was tainted and stained with it's higher ups' ruthlessness. A kingdom of crushed dreams and thriving nightmares, a kingdom who's king wore a demon's smile... But even with it's disgusting practices, there were still glimmers of hope among the ashen ruins of her workplace, hope that was named Wally and Norman. The latter was great at consoling people and offering advice, while the former cheered her up and was fun to gossip and rant with. She'd miss working with them after she leaves, they certainly made waiting until the right moment to abandon the higher ups as they abandoned her more tolerable.

The studio break room had never looked more warm and welcoming than it did now.

"Wally, you won't believe how the meeting went down."

"Oooh boy," The Janitor tossed his broom to the side and pulled out some chairs for them. "Spill it sistah, I'm all ears!"

"So..." Susie took her seat "you know how Joey wants to put the 'Society for the Shellacking of Souper Boris' into the show because of how well the comics sold?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, guess who he has voicing the evil team's leader and love interest for Alice Angel:" She deadpanned while pointing to herself. "Yours truly."

"...He didn't."

"He did."

"Jeez!" Wally cringed in sympathy. "Dat doesn't sound like rubbin' salt in da wound, it's morah like- sandpapering da freakin' salt inta it an' den pourin' lemonade ova it!"

"I know, right? And the meeting was supposed to get me and Allison on the same page about what the characters' dynamics were so that Sammy could write fitting themes, but guess who didn't show up? The one guy who needed to be at the stupid meeting more than anyone else and had done everything he could to insure we'd both be there! So I left the second I could."

Wally paused to think for a moment.

On one hand, he knew that Susie had every right to be mad at Sammy, especially since he didn't even give her as much as a heads up or even so much as try to repair their relationship. But on the other hand, he could see the future, so the fact that him making sure that Susie was at that meeting was important enough for the prophet to break the sub-zero cold silence going on between them must've meant that it was insanely important. Possibly even 'life or death' levels of importance. But that didn't mean that the janitor had been given permission by the universe to out him as a seer!

"...I mean, I know bettah den anyone dat da music directah locks himself up in his own mind way too often for his own good, but don't ya think dat it's kinda... idunno, weird dat outta all da things he coulda used ta break the silence, it was that? I gotta bad feeling in my gut about it..."

"Well, if Sammy gets mad about me leaving early, then he should've shown up to his own damn meeting that he planned instead of making stupid excuses. A 'car accident', really? Who does he think he's fooling? Everybody knows he doesn't even own a car!" Susie sighed in frustration. "So what about you, how'd he mess things up back here today?"

"Uh, honestly, he didn't do anythin' interestin' ova here, just ate all da good muffins an' den spooked da livin' daylights outta an intern while fightin' wit' Mistah Conner. But aftah dat, he really did leave ta go to da meeting..." Wally shrugged "I guess he got hit by a car on da way, dat counts as a car accident, right?"

"I guess..?" Susie tapped on the table in thought. "It doesn't sound like something that would happen to him though."

"But if ya really wanna see me get mad ova dumb plans from the higha ups ya won't frickin' believe what Joey tried ta pull on me! I swear, if he eva tries somethin' like THAT again, I'm outta here!"

"Oh?" the voice actress looked intrigued. "What did Joey do?"

"Okay, So I'm mindin' my own business, mopping up da floors, catchin' up wit' a few of da interns, when all of a sudden: Boom! Da entire freakin' hallway is flooded wit' ink! It's only up to our knees at most, but I'm frickin' mad! All of da work I've done today? yeah, he washed it down da drain with dat crap. I know _I_ didn't touch da pipes at all today, an' Conner knows bettah den ta flood da place. So I march up ta Drew's office an' I'm poundin' on the door real loud, I hear shufflin' going on in dere an' I know he's back dere but he wont come out an' face da music. Aftah it sounds like he strangled a machine back dere, he pops out as cheerful as eva an' do ya know what he says ta me?"

"No, what?"

"Listen ta this, he says:" the janitor clears his throat and speaks with an almost eerily perfect Joey impression "'Hiya Wally! hope you learned a lot from our friend Tommy because you're gonna take the reigns for him! good luck!' an get dis, he ain't even givin' me as much as a raise for coverin' his job and mine! or even tryin' ta look for otha cleanin' staff! when I brought up dat he frickin' flooded da building with dat dang machine of his, he just said 'well, you better get working on those problems then!' Da nerve of dat guy! I swear... Some days I feel like my work means nothin' ta him!"

"I'm so sorry Wally..." she rested her hand on his shoulder reassuringly "tell you what, when I get hired by a better company and if they need a janitor, you're going to be the first and only person I recommend to them, because you're much more than a great worker, you're a great friend too."

"Aww shucks, Thanks Susie!"

The door to the break room swung open as a fearful looking Allison bolted into the room and lifted Wally up by his overall's straps.

"Don't just end it like that! What did Joey do to Tom?!"

"I Dunno!" the frazzled janitor sputtered out. "I didn't ask! All he told me was dat I was takin' ova foah him! an' dat he didn't need him anymore!"

Allison dropped the wizard back on the ground, her face drained of all color.

" _Shit..._ "

"Wait, were you eavesdropping on us the entire time?!"

The angel's voice actress didn't answer her, she just rushed to the elevator, frantically pressing the 'up' button over and over again and praying she could reach him before it was too late.


	5. A picture's worth a thousand words, and the camera's worth billions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the readers' convenience, all Morse code camera-click speech has been translated to italicized english.

The animator's heart skipped a beat as he saw the fruits of his labor staring back at him. He was practically over the moon with these results! Finally, after failure after failure, he got what he was paying for! Real, living cartoons to put into the new park. He could already see the booth set up where crowds would pay fifteen dollars per customer to get to take pictures with the toons, twenty to have the said pic get autographed. With the Cameraman in the position being well, _Cameraman_.

However, he knew better than to get ahead of himself. While the big picture was what he was aiming for, he knew that every single little detail was important. So in order to make sure that the new toon was completely on model and acted in character, he climbed into the machine itself to get a closer look at his new attraction.

...Who had promptly charged at him and had tried to punch Joey possibly as hard as it could. But all it took a for Joey to move two steps out of the criminal creature's attack to evade it, leaving it to trip from the momentum (and the over-sized clothes that Joey should get rid of.) and fall flat on its face. A hilarious scene, but one that proved that the toon wasn't quite done yet. The real Cameraman knew its limits and wouldn't try something as silly as to physically brute force its way through something it deemed a threat, especially with its size and strength, or lack there of.

Joey tried to bite back his laughter and failed as he scooped the struggling former mechanic up in his arms and carried it off to his office.

The clothes of the 'late' Thomas Conner still had some use to him as a way to keep the toon hidden. He couldn't just parade the little guy around when it seemed that Thomas's mind and soul still lingered in the camera-headed toon, so off he dashed with a pile of wildly thrashing laundry that screamed out muffled threats to the animator's well-being and got him some very strange looks from some of his employees.

This wasn't going as smoothly as planned, but that was partly to be expected as he knew that the former mechanic liked to fight with him a lot, even when he holds all the cards.

As the animator was keenly aware of how suspicious this scene sounded, he quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom, and temporarily freed his creation its work uniform prison. He felt annoyed that he had to do this in the first place. In an ideal timeline where Sammy didn't so stupidly schedule an important meeting that included Allison and Susie right on the exact day where they'd run the machine, he'd already have a perfect little Alice Angel who'd be much more inclined to listen to him even if Susie still lingered.

"JOEY DREW!" The pint-sized object head screamed at the top of its lungs. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I CAN AND I WILL-"

*Click*

"Alright, that's enough of that." Joey removed what Thomas thought was just a fancy belt and waved it in front of his lens. "You can have _this_ back if you behave." He taunted as he folded up the small belt and tucked it into his pocket.

" _Why would I care if you take that thing or not?_ " The former mechanic slapped his hands over where his mouth used to be as he looked at Joey in horror, everything that he had tried to say came out as the clicks, whirs, and beeping of a camera. " _W-what did you do to me now?! Why can't I talk anymore?!_ "

"There we go, that'll do for now..."

Joey told himself as he used the pants to tie up Cameraman's arms and legs, tucked the tied toon into the shirt, neatly folding it in a way that the creature just looked like a rolled-up blanket, and turned to continue his trip to his office, only to crash into the projectionist head on.

"GAH! Norman!" The startled animator hid the uniform burrito and its precious cargo behind his back. "How many times have people told you not to sneak up on them?!"

"Good evenin' to you too, Mr. Drew." The man replied with a chill, dry tone as his one eye stared deeply into Joey's very soul. "I'm afraid I've gots some bad news for ya."

"And I'm afraid I'm not in a good spot to hear it right now," Joey subtlety tried to subdue his squirming sentient sketch and sidestep the skulking spook. "I've got something very important to take care of."

"I'm sure you do, but there's been a lot of real bad accidents happening today; ink floods, floors givin' up while people are on 'em, and the automatic doors breakin' down just ta name a few."

"I see... Well I guess we'll all just have to be extra careful while we work then."

" _And maybe you could, oh I don't know... *NOT* TURN THE ONLY PERSON YOU HIRED TO FIX YOUR FUCKING DEATH TRAP OF A STUDIO INTO A GODDAMNED MIDGET ABOMINATION CREATURE!_ "

"What in the hell is that dang noise?"

"What noise?" Joey inched closer to the door. "I don't hear anything out of the ordinary."

"Sounds kinda like a camera goin' haywire..."

"Yes, very curious... Oh no! look at the time, I've got to run. Bye Norman!"

"Mr. Drew! Wait! You-"

Before the projectionist could get another word in, the animator was already speeding down the hallways and up the stairs, flinging himself into his office, locking his door behind him, and unceremoniously dumping the angry clicking toon onto his desk, who crossed his arms and looked at him with nothing but pure disdain.

"Joey you mad genius you've really done it this time! Everyone's gonna love this little guy!"

" _You've done it all right, you sick fuck..._ "

The man couldn't help but smile in spite of the very close calls made just moments ago. As he closely inspected the creature, he saw that every single little physical trait and feature of the camera-headed toon was perfectly matched up with his animated counterpart! Aside from the stolen belt, of course. Even if joey wasn't a cartoon himself, Thomas could practically see the dollar signs in the man's eyes as he rambled on about about 'his creation' and it filled him with disgust.

"Yes, the camera's in perfect condition, model's at a preferred size, there's no deformities or otherworldly aura unlike that _other attempt,_ we might have to get your measured so that Shawn can whip you up some promotional costumes... Here you go." Joey handed the Cameraman a pen and notepad. "Since you can't speak at the moment, you can write down how you feel physically and mentally right here."

Thomas glared daggers at Joey as he snatched the items up and started scribbling something down. Joey leaned over and tried to peek, only for the irritated toon to hug his work close to his body and try to swat the animator away.

" _Back off you rotten bastard!_ "

"Alright! no need to get so huffy! Jeez!"

" _'NO nEeD tO get aLl HufFy jEez!' hmph! I'll get as huffy as I want, you jackass!_ "

Obviously he wasn't listening to Joey as he hated the idea of letting that humanity-stealing creep know anything that could make him tic. (Although he couldn't deny that he'd need to write stuff like that down for his own sake later.) So instead, he wrote down 'the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog' to check how much his handwriting changed. Which showed him that it seemed to improve in spite of missing a finger.

He then ripped that note up into pieces small enough to be unreadable and then started writing what he was actually planning to show Joey: 'I _physically_ feel sick looking at/being around you and I _mentally_ feel like you should go jump off a cliff into hell where you belong.'

The camera-headed toon handed Joey the paper, who frowned as he read it.

"Tsk, tsk tsk, I wanted to believe otherwise but in the end I knew you wouldn't be cooperative if you stuck around," Joey sighed as he crumpled up the paper and tossed it away. "Which is a real shame as if you did, we'd truly make something incredible together in spite of these little hiccups."

" _'little hiccups'?_ " Thomas's shutter twitched. " _'little HICCUPS'!?_ _BECAUSE OF **YOU** I AM A FUCKING. TODDLER-SIZED. CAMERA-HEADED. FREAK. OF. NATURE! NORMAL PEOPLE DON'T CALL THAT A HICCUP!_"

The animator didn't understand a single word coming out of the hopping-mad mechanic, but judging by its exaggeratedly cartoonish body language, he could tell that it was furious and unwilling to listen to him at all, let alone work with him anymore... Oh well, it's nothing more than a slight wrinkle to be ironed out.

"You know Tommy, an interesting fact about being turned from a being of flesh and bone to one of magic, ink, and machinery is that the latter will function and process information in a different away than the former does."

Thomas was furious before, but now he felt chills in addition to his anger. The man was well aware of how small and weak he was made, and he was especially aware of how little energy he had been left with after the initial change. He heard loud pounding, but couldn't tell if it was his own heart pounding away in fear or something else.

" _Where are you going with this...?_ "

Joey didn't spin some wheel of fate to let the machine itself turn Thomas into whatever it thought would fit him, oh no. The mechanical member of the Society for the Shellacking of Souper Boris wasn't just made because of how adorable (and marketable) he was or how the trio's popularity was currently soaring. The camera-headed cretin had a perfect feature that the animator could use to his benefit.

"Somebody can't exactly reach into a human being's brain and manually delete their memories and personality. We can certainly try, but as of right now, all modern medicine can do is give you a brain-dead paperweight or a corpse! But all it takes to delete a camera's memory is a couple of clicks."

" _You're sick..._ " The mechanic backed away from Joey and held onto his head like he feared the madman would tear it off. " _S-Stay away from me!_ "

"C'mon Tommy, I know you're a smart cookie." He unconvincingly stated as he reached out for the little toon. "Surely you know that if you try to fight now, you'll only be wasting both of our time."

The pounding grew louder and louder as Thomas ran as fast as his little noodly legs could carry him while Joey kept reaching out for him. Luckily, in spite of all of his form's failings, he was decent enough at evading the mad dreamer's clutches, but both of them knew that he couldn't stay out of them forever.

It was a decently-sized office, far larger and better furnished than the scraps of rooms and broom closets the man gave to his other employees, but it was still a single room that he couldn't escape. After all, even if the door was unlocked, he was still too short to reach the handle. No matter what, he was going to die here, he was going to be completely erased from existence and have his warped, inhuman corpse become a performing puppet for Joey's damned amusement park.

" **Gotcha!** "

Thomas's life flashed before his eyes as Joey triumphantly raised him to the sky with his throat in his palm. For him, it was like seeing a rapid fire slideshow of everything that had ever happened in his life. Early childhood, the first time he interacted with a cop, his family life, his school life, getting into college, working his butt off in college in spite of those prissy whites trying everything they could to shoo him out of 'their' school, slowly but steadily working his way up from just an apprentice at GENT to one of the highest-paid positions in the entire company, having to do... 'unsavory' things to both get his way there and keep himself there, finding Bread at the pet store, getting hired to help by Joey Drew, how he treated the man's employees, building and installing the ink machine, meeting Allison, ripping out the walls to put in the pipes, getting to know Allison better, training Wally how to fix the pipes, the many, many arguments with the music director over said pipes which in hindsight weren't just the man wanting to start fights with him for the sake of starting fights with him but genuine, well founded concerns.

" _No, please..._ " He begged to any god that would listen. " _I can't go out like this! I still have so much to live for! I still have so much to do! I... I didn't even get a chance to propose to her!_ "

" ** _MISTAH DREW!_** " The voice on the other side of the door boomed as the person it came from pounded on the door. " ** _IF YA DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR IN FIVE SECONDS, I'M GONNA RIP IT OFF OF IT'S HINGES AN' BEAT YA TA DEATH WIT' IT!_** "

Holy shit, was that _Wally_ screaming his head off like that? Tom had never heard him get that angry before in his entire life! And judging by Joey's expression, he had also never heard the janitor get that angry before.

Instead of waiting to see if Wally would make good on his threat, the animator stuck Thomas on top of a high shelf before unlocking his office door and going out to talk with him. Not planning to just sulk around and twiddle his thumbs until Joey killed the rest of him, the camera-headed toon used his high position to look for anything he could use as a weapon. Sure, HE'd not be able to take Joey down like this, but maybe now that it was two against one...

Joey was right on one thing, a machine does work differently than a flesh and blood creature does. The mechanic's eyesight was much crisper now, and unlike his human eyes, could zoom in on things that were far away. Like the screwdriver in his shirt pocket that was thrown to the floor with the rest of his clothes in the scuffle. A perfect tool to poke out the animator's eyes with.

" _Bingo!_ "

Tom carefully and slowly made his way down the colossal bookshelf, his heart pounding in fear with every time his boots didn't find a ledge, every time he grabbed a loose book or piece of Bendy memorabilia instead of a sturdy shelf, and every time the entire thing wobbled and threatened to fall on him. The animator's voice was only mildly muffled by the closed office door, reminding the former mechanic that all it took was one wrong move and one loud noise to seal his fate for good. Especially as he talked with the janitor about how he was going to replace him, something that seemed to make the janitor even angrier.

As he finally made it to the floor, he saw something small and white skitter up to him. Well, it would be small if he was his own normal size, but as of right now, it was alarmingly large. As it stopped by his shoes, he could tell that the creature before him seemed to be a skeletal rat that stared up at him with tiny glowing yellow lights in its otherwise pitch black eye sockets.

" _Uh... Hello?_ " Thomas hesitantly waved at the rat. " _Please tell me you're not Joey's security system..._ "

The rat shook it's head and moved it's jaw in a way that Thomas imagined it was letting out a hoarse, rigid laugh before tugging on his glove and gesturing for him to follow it.


End file.
